As soon as Yinreng's footsteps faded beyond the heavy wooden doors, Kangxi emerged from the inner chamber. The scent of burning sandalwood clung to his robes.
"Did Your Majesty see?" the Grand Empress Dowager asked, adjusting her shawl.
Kangxi nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I heard him chatting with Lingguang last night. He actually thinks taking a wife is 'too much trouble' and a 'waste of time.' I didn't know whether to laugh or scold him. I assumed it was just idle chatter, which is why I asked you to test the waters today. Who could have predicted such a violent reaction?"
Su Malagu, standing quietly by the side, began rolling up a silk painting on the table. "Your Majesty and the Grand Empress Dowager need not worry too much. To my old eyes, His Highness simply hasn't awakened to such matters yet. Once he understands, everything will fall into place."
'Awakened?' Kangxi's eyes glinted. "Whether it's the Crown Princess or a secondary consort, there is no rush. But perhaps we should select two gentle palace maids to attend to him first. What do you think, Grandmother?"
Normally, a birth mother would handle this. But Yinreng had none, and Kangxi, burdened with the empire, had simply overlooked it. Still, the Grand Empress Dowager's eye for character was unmatched.
She shook her head slowly. "You know Baocheng's temperament. If he doesn't like them, they will just be flesh-and-blood vases in his room. You might force him to take them, but are you going to tie him up and throw him onto the bed?"
Kangxi choked on his tea. 'There was no need to be that blunt.'
He set the cup down, his dilemma only deepening. "In the past, I worried he would be led astray by ambitious servants, that his character would be corrupted or his health ruined. So I struck hard. I vetted everyone around him with an iron fist. Now... I wonder if I was too harsh. Have I overcorrected?"
"Baocheng is fourteen this year," the Grand Empress Dowager reasoned. "Not a child, but hardly a grown man. Selecting a Crown Princess is not the work of a single day. Take your time. We must guide him step by step. If you push, he will only dig his heels in."
Kangxi conceded the point. Choosing a Crown Princess was fundamentally different from finding a wife for his eldest son, Yinzhi. This girl would one day be Empress. She required an impeccable lineage, a sharp mind, a generous spirit, and—most importantly—she had to actually mesh with Yinreng's stubborn nature.
"I will listen to Grandmother. I must leave Baocheng in your care for a while longer."
The old woman smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes softening. "I watched that boy grow up. It is no burden. I only hope I am granted enough years to keep watching over him."
***
Outside the palace, the biting winter wind swept through the bustling streets of Beijing.
Yinzhi kicked at a loose cobblestone, pulling his fur collar tighter. "Second Brother, we've been out for four hours. Shouldn't we head back?"
"No rush," Yinreng said lightly, his eyes scanning a nearby stall selling candied hawthorns. "Let's walk a bit more."
Yinzhi let out a groan of pure suffering. "Second Brother, we've walked up and down this exact street nine times."
Yinreng paused, the candied hawthorn hovering near his mouth. "Fine. We'll change streets."
His entourage stared at him in deadpan silence.
Yinzhen tugged slightly at his sleeves, his sharp eyes studying his older brother. "Second Brother... do you just not want to return to the palace?"
Yinzhi frowned. "Why wouldn't he?"
"I think," Yinzhen said quietly, "he's afraid that the moment he steps through the gates, Imperial Father and Great-Grandmother will force him to choose a wife."
Yinreng chewed his hawthorn in stony silence.
Yinzhi still didn't get it. "What's wrong with getting married? Everyone does it. Eldest Brother is having his grand wedding soon. Naturally, you're next."
Yinreng released a long, heavy sigh, the breath pluming in the freezing air. "Have you ever heard the saying? 'Women will only affect the speed at which I draw my sword.'"
Yinzhi blinked. "...No."
"I thought not."
"But what does it have to do with swords?" Yinzhi pressed, genuinely baffled. "You don't even use a sword. You're not a wandering swordsman from a cheap tavern novel."
Yinreng rubbed his temples. "The sword isn't the point."
"Then why did you bring it up?!"
Yinreng stared at him. 'Where did I get such a plastic brother? Are you a monkey sent here just to argue with me? It's a metaphor!'
Yinzhen suppressed a laugh, gently pulling Yinzhi's sleeve. "What Second Brother means is that he has too many grand ambitions. He feels a wife would consume his time and slow his progress."
"Still don't get it," Yinzhi muttered.
Lingguang, who had been quietly trailing them, finally spoke up. "If you three plan to keep wandering, I'm heading back."
Yinreng turned to him.
"My father warned me before I left," Lingguang said, his tone entirely matter-of-fact. "He told me to return early so we could finalize my marriage arrangements."
Yinreng dropped his hawthorn stick. "And you're actually going back?!"
"Why not?" Lingguang shrugged. "Father explained it clearly. Most women willing to marry me are looking at the status of being my primary wife. As long as I give her the respect the position demands, she won't require much of my time. Father promised to pick someone practical—someone who will manage the household when I need her to, and stay entirely out of my way when I don't. When you put it like that, it sounds perfectly fine."
Yinreng stared in horror. 'I thought we were allies in bachelorhood! You traitor!'
He wanted to shake Lingguang by the shoulders. He wanted to yell that marriage was about partnership, about becoming one entity. But the words died in his throat. He couldn't force a modern, twenty-first-century moral framework onto a Manchu noble in the Qing Dynasty. If the bride was entering the arrangement purely for status and comfort, perhaps it truly was just a transaction. Both sides get what they want.
"Fine," Yinreng muttered, defeated. "You go."
Lingguang swung himself onto his horse, grabbing the reins. He paused, looking down at Yinreng. "You know, no matter how long you walk this street, you have to go back eventually. You always say it yourself: 'Stretch your neck, it's a knife; pull it back, it's still a knife.' Instead of hiding, why don't you just ask the Emperor to pick someone practical and quiet for you, too?"
Yinreng blinked. 'Wait. That... actually makes sense.'
'Scumbag,' the System's mechanical voice chimed in his head.
Yinreng ignored it.
***
The moment Yinreng crossed the threshold of the Yuqing Palace, his attendant, Fang Xueqing, bowed low. "Your Highness, a message from the Palace of Compassion and Tranquility. The Grand Empress Dowager requests your presence for dinner. The Emperor is already there."
Yinreng marched toward his doom, mentally drafting a dozen different speeches based on Lingguang's "practical wife" theory.
Yet, when he arrived, the atmosphere was maddeningly warm. The Grand Empress Dowager gestured for him to sit, immediately placing a tender piece of braised duck into his bowl. She and Kangxi chatted effortlessly about the weather, the upcoming spring, and palace gossip.
Not a single word about women.
Yinreng chewed nervously, his eyes darting between the two most powerful people in the empire. He opened his mouth twice, ready to preemptively state his case, but clamped it shut. 'What if they've forgotten? If I bring it up, I'll just be digging my own grave.'
He ate the entire meal in a state of high-strung paranoia.
Kangxi and the Grand Empress Dowager exchanged a fleeting, amused glance over their teacups. They saw right through him.
Days passed. Yinreng deliberately loitered around Kangxi's study, testing the waters. Nothing. No portraits of noble girls, no subtle hints. The threat had vanished. He let out a massive breath, his usual arrogant swagger returning.
'Hide while you can!' he thought cheerfully. He was only fourteen. He could drag this out for years.
What the brilliant Crown Prince completely failed to realize was the grinding gears of Qing bureaucracy. Choosing a bride was merely step one. The actual wedding of the dynasty's first-ever Crown Prince required unprecedented protocol. The Ministry of Rites had already been bickering over the budgetary and ceremonial rules for years. Even if Kangxi picked a girl tomorrow, the wedding wouldn't happen for at least two years.
The System knew this. The System chose to stay entirely silent.
'Hmph. Dog host. Let's see you act smug later.'
***
At the end of January, Yinzhi married the daughter of the Minister of Personnel, Lady Irgen Gioro.
Yinreng attended the banquet, drinking heavily with his brothers. Due to strict royal protocol, he didn't see the bride that night. It wasn't until the next morning, when Yinzhi brought her to pay respects at the Palace of Compassion and Tranquility, that Yinreng got a good look at his new sister-in-law.
She was striking—bearing a hint of martial sharpness in her features, carrying herself with generous grace, and speaking with a refreshing clarity that made the Grand Empress Dowager laugh.
As the newlyweds departed, Yinreng watched her back, a profound sense of pity swelling in his chest.
'What a waste.' He knew his history. This vibrant woman was doomed. Five pregnancies in five years. She would be reduced to a royal breeding mare, hollowed out and exhausted until she finally produced a son on the fifth try. It would kill her in her youth, and Yinzhi would simply move on to a second primary wife.
'System,' Yinreng thought, his internal voice dripping with disgust. 'Stop calling me a scumbag. Look at him. He's the ultimate scum.'
The System was unimpressed.
'He uses her until she dies just to get an heir, then immediately replaces her! Only the new wife laughs, while the old one rots! And that's not even counting the dozen named concubines in his backyard, plus the nameless ones, plus the two mistresses he hides outside the estate!'
The System rolled its metaphorical eyes. 'Don't act so high and mighty. Historical records show that aside from your Crown Princess, you had plenty of secondary consorts and concubines yourself. Cao Xueqin based 'Dream of the Red Chamber' on your family's messy drama. Some historians even think Qin Keqing was written as your illegitimate daughter!'
Yinreng choked on his spit. 'Where is Cao Xueqin?! I'll beat him to death!'
'Name one man in the Aisin Gioro family who wasn't a polygamous scumbag,' the System challenged. 'Just one.'
Yinreng scoured his historical knowledge. He came up empty. Even the legendary "true loves" of the dynasty—Hong Taiji's Hai Lanzhu, or Shunzhi's Consort Donggo—existed within palaces stuffed with other women, swimming in poison and backstabbing. Hell, Hong Taiji once gave one of his lower-ranking concubines to another man 'after' she had borne him a child.
Yinreng went dead silent.
'Heh,' the System sneered.
***
In the Zhongcui Palace, Consort Hui dismissed the new bride with a warm smile. The moment the doors closed, her face hardened. She turned to her son, Yinzhi.
"You are a married man now. You are an adult. There will be no more of your previous foolishness."
Yinzhi smiled easily. "Mother, I've listened to you completely for two years. I work hard for Imperial Father, I don't make mistakes. With the Crown Prince setting such a high standard, I am forced to be cautious. I don't touch what I shouldn't. What foolishness?"
"I am not talking about the court."
Yinzhi's smile slipped.
Consort Hui's eyes narrowed into slits. "Do not think I am blind to how heavily you favor that girl, Yanyan."
"Mother," Yinzhi said, lowering his voice. "I know exactly how Yanyan ended up in my bed. I know her calculations. But in this palace, who doesn't calculate? As long as she doesn't cross the line, I don't care. She is interesting, she knows the rules, and she never uses my favor to act arrogant. I give her face because she entertains me."
Consort Hui's posture relaxed slightly. "As long as you know the stakes."
If her son understood the game, it was fine. Yanyan had already been secretly dosed; she would never bear a child. She was merely a toy. It wasn't worth ruining her relationship with her son over a barren plaything.
"Spoil her in the past, fine. But now you have a primary wife. Your focus must shift." Consort Hui leaned forward, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "The eldest son of the eldest son. You are the firstborn. The Crown Prince hasn't even picked a bride yet. This is your window! You must secure the title of having the Emperor's first grandson. The first is always different. The Emperor will always favor the first."
Yinzhi's eyelashes fluttered as the ambition took root. "Understood. I will... work hard."
***
By February, the brutal cold began to snap.
Yinreng returned from inspecting the lands around Jingshan and immediately sought out Kangxi.
"Jingshan Academy?" Kangxi frowned, flipping through the meticulously drafted proposal Yinreng had placed on his desk. "Why a school, suddenly?"
"It's not sudden," Yinreng said, standing straight. "I wanted to do this two years ago, but the conditions weren't right. Now, after four years of reforms in the royal schoolroom—the elimination exams, the high-pressure testing—we've produced a crop of genuinely brilliant students. They aren't ready to lead ministries, but they are more than ready to act as teaching assistants for foundational subjects."
Yinreng leaned closer, his voice dropping into a serious, persuasive cadence. "Imperial Father, the royal schoolroom is too small. We cannot expand it. But look at the Eight Banners. A few years ago, the reforms terrified them into behaving. Now? The rot is setting back in. They are drifting back toward luxury and laziness. I want to build an academy to lock them in. And not just bannermen—commoners too. The goal isn't just discipline; it's to filter the entire empire for raw talent."
He paused, letting the political weight of the idea settle. "The common people revere the royal family right now. If we open an imperial academy to them, it proves the Qing Dynasty values merit over ethnic bloodlines."
Kangxi's eyes lit up. He tapped the paper. "Approved."
"If Imperial Father thinks it's good, let me manage the construction."
Kangxi looked up, genuinely shocked. "You? The boy who hates work? The one who drops a brilliant idea on my desk and runs away so he doesn't have to execute it? You want an actual assignment?" A hopeful smile broke across the Emperor's face. "If you're ready to work, forget the school. Come to the morning court. Rotate through the Six Ministries."
Yinreng waved his hands frantically. "No, no, no! This academy is different. I don't trust anyone else with it. Between managing the curriculum, teaching in the royal schoolroom, and my own studies, I won't have a second to spare for the Ministries."
Kangxi sighed. 'At least he's taking responsibility for something.' "Fine. How will you staff it? You can't run it alone."
"The math and science tutors will come from the royal schoolroom. Literature and history are easy; we just poach the best scholars from the civilian world. But the Headmaster needs to be someone with enough terrifying authority to keep the arrogant banner nobles in line. I made a list."
He slid a second sheet of paper forward.
Kangxi scanned it and pointed. "Boguoduo."
"My thoughts exactly," Yinreng grinned. Prince Boguoduo, the Prince Zhuang. Grandson of Emperor Hong Taiji. An iron-cap prince whose bloodline was so fiercely respected that even the most rebellious bannerman wouldn't dare breathe wrong in his presence. More importantly, Boguoduo genuinely respected Yinreng's intellect and didn't throw his weight around as an 'uncle'.
"And for the architecture, I want the Lei family."
The Yangshi Lei—the master architects of the Qing Dynasty who would eventually build the Forbidden City's greatest halls and the Summer Palace.
"Easy enough," Kangxi said dismissively. "I'll summon Lei Fada."
"He's getting too old," Yinreng countered. "Send his son, Lei Jinyu. He has the fire for it."
"Done. Anything else?"
"Yes! I need your calligraphy." Yinreng beamed. "I want to carve your writing into a massive stone stele at the academy's entrance."
Kangxi chuckled, his ego pleasantly stroked. "What do you want me to write?"
"The Four Sentences of Hengqu."
Kangxi's brush paused over the inkstone. 'To ordain conscience for Heaven and Earth. To secure life and fortune for the people. To continue lost teachings for past sages. To establish peace for all future generations.' The ultimate manifesto of the Song Dynasty philosopher Zhang Zai.
"Fitting," Kangxi murmured softly. "Very fitting for Jingshan Academy. Liang Jiugong, prepare the ink!"
"No need!" Yinreng physically shoved the head eunuch out of the way. "I'll serve Imperial Father myself!"
For the next hour, Yinreng was a model of aggressive filial piety. He ground the ink to the perfect consistency. He meticulously laid out the paper. After Kangxi wrote the majestic characters, Yinreng personally hung it to dry, chattering about how he was going to learn how to mount it himself. He hovered, asking the eunuchs if Kangxi had been using his hot compresses for his eyes, scolding them to make sure the Emperor looked at distant trees every hour to save his vision.
He even intercepted a maid to personally serve Kangxi's tea.
After lunch, Yinreng mysteriously signaled a servant. A silver tray was brought in. On it sat a bowl of bright red strawberries.
"Are these the foreign seeds from Su Hetai?" Kangxi asked, surprised.
"Yes! Harvested just this morning!" Yinreng's eyes were practically sparkling. He looked like a puppy begging for a treat, licking his lips as he stared at the fruit. "Try it!"
Kangxi laughed. "You haven't eaten any?"
"I wanted Imperial Father to have the very first bite!"
Touched, Kangxi ate one. The burst of sweet tartness was incredible. He picked up a second one and fed it directly into Yinreng's open mouth. "Well?"
Yinreng chewed rapidly, nodding. "Amazing! I'll have them distribute the planting methods to the commoners. Soon, the whole empire will eat them! Oh, and they grew tomatoes too! I'll make you a cold salad next time. Or tomato juice. Or scrambled eggs with tomatoes..."
Kangxi listened to the rambling, a fond smile on his face. But as Yinreng kept talking, listing off fifty different ways to cook a tomato, Kangxi's imperial instincts kicked in.
He leaned back, crossing his arms. "You always claim you're too busy to breathe. Yet today, you've spent half the day lounging in my study. You grind my ink, you feed me fruit..." Kangxi's eyes narrowed. "You only act like this when you want something outrageous. Spit it out."
Yinreng gave a sheepish, exaggerated grin. "Imperial Father is so wise. I... bought a piece of land in Xiaotangshan."
"Xiaotangshan? Why there?"
"It has natural hot springs! Even in the dead of winter, the ground is warm and the flowers bloom early. Since Lei Jinyu is already designing the academy, I figured I'd have him design a garden estate for me there."
Kangxi frowned, puzzled. "You don't need to butter me up just to have a garden built."
Yinreng coughed into his fist, refusing to make eye contact. "Well, I was thinking... since we're building it anyway, maybe make it an official Crown Prince Estate? I don't *have* to live in the palace all year round, right? Past dynasties had Crown Princes who lived outside the walls, right...?"
The word barely left his mouth before Kangxi's face darkened like a thunderhead. The Emperor grabbed a thick, heavy memorial from his desk and violently swung it at Yinreng's backside.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Kangxi roared. "Is that appropriate?!"
Yinreng scrambled backward, dodging the blow. "I think... I think it's fine!"
Kangxi raised the heavy bamboo-bound book higher, aiming for his head.
"Ah! Don't hit the head!" Yinreng shrieked, covering his skull with both hands. "It'll make me stupid!"
Kangxi's hand froze mid-air. He glared at his cowering son, his chest heaving, his teeth ground together. "Name one dynasty where the Crown Prince living outside the palace ended well!"
There are some, Yinreng grumbled internally, though he knew better than to say it out loud.
Kangxi knew history too. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang let his princes live outside. The result? Total paranoia. Xuanzong executed his first Crown Prince, Li Ying. The next one, Li Heng, lived in such absolute terror of his father that he nearly went mad, only surviving because a massive civil war forced him to flee.
A Crown Prince leaving the Eastern Palace was a political earthquake. The court would panic. The rumors of a fractured royal family would tear the capital apart.
Seeing the sheer violence in Kangxi's eyes, Yinreng instantly deployed his backup plan. He dropped his hands, looking incredibly pitiful and deeply wronged. "Fine. Just a garden then. Can I at least go live there for a month or two during the winter? It's so cold here, and the hot springs are good for the joints. Once it's built, I'll even take you and Great-Grandmother to soak in the waters."
Kangxi's raised arm slowly lowered. The anger bled out, replaced by exhaustion. "If the location is that good, perhaps I should build an Imperial Palace there instead."
"No!" Yinreng panicked. "An Imperial Palace takes years and drains the treasury. The censors will scream about you wasting taxpayer money! Just let me build a small, exquisite garden. It won't cost much, and you can still visit!"
Kangxi didn't actually care about building a palace. He waved his hand dismissively. "Fine. Build your garden."
Yinreng exhaled a breath he felt like he'd been holding for a year. Thank God. If it became an Imperial Palace, Kangxi would own it. Yinreng needed this land to be his private, unquestioned territory. He needed a base of operations away from the Emperor's all-seeing spies.
"Thank you, Imperial Father! I won't disturb your afternoon rest!" Yinreng bowed hastily and practically sprinted out of the study, terrified Kangxi might throw the memorial at his head anyway.
Kangxi watched him flee, letting out a short, helpless scoff. He shook his head, turning back to his desk to put the memorial away.
But as his hand touched the wood, he froze.
The silence of the study suddenly felt suffocating. Kangxi stood completely still, his eyes locked on the empty doorway where Yinreng had vanished.
He's fourteen, Kangxi thought.
He had offered Yinreng power—to sit in court, to manage the Six Ministries. Yinreng had refused, claiming he was too busy. But was he?
Kangxi's mind raced backward, tearing through the events of the past few years. When Yinreng needed things done, he never built a network of ministers. He actively avoided them. When his own great-uncle, the powerful minister Songotu, tried to build a faction around the Crown Prince, Yinreng ruthlessly orchestrated events to strip Songotu of his power. Yinreng refused to cultivate a political base.
And now... he was begging to move out of the palace.
Past dynasties had Crown Princes who lived outside the walls...
Kangxi's breath hitched. Li Ying. Li Heng. Liu Ju of the Han Dynasty, who was forced into a suicidal rebellion because his father, Emperor Wu, grew paranoid and isolated him.
Why do Crown Princes refuse power? Why do they destroy their own political backing? Why do they desperately try to put physical distance between themselves and the Emperor?
Because they are terrified.
Because history proves that when a Crown Prince grows strong, the Emperor grows paranoid. And when an Emperor grows paranoid, the Crown Prince dies.
Does he think I will kill him? The thought struck Kangxi like a physical blow to the chest. He saw it all clearly now. Every joke Yinreng made to avoid work, every time he pushed away authority, the desperate plea to live in Xiaotangshan—it wasn't laziness. It was a survival strategy. His beloved son, the boy he had raised by hand, was treating him not as a father, but as a tyrant who would eventually butcher him for the throne.
The horror of the realization violently twisted Kangxi's insides. A sharp, agonizing pressure seized his heart. The edges of his vision blackened. His knees buckled.
"Your Majesty!" Liang Jiugong's terrified shriek echoed in the study.
Kangxi coughed, a spray of hot crimson blood splattering across the polished wood of his desk, before the darkness swallowed him entirely.